In the homestretch

What a difference a week makes.

I feel like a completely different person from the whiner who posted here last week, and am grateful that all members of my family are on the mend after a week of illness.

As for weight loss, Alan and I are coming down to the wire, and we're still neck and neck (and any other cliches you'd like to insert here).

I stayed the same this week, keeping my weight loss since Jan. 3 at 23 pounds.

Alan lost 1 pound, bringing his total loss to 16 pounds.

Our competition is whoever loses 10 percent of our weight first wins. I have 5 pounds to go (for this competition), and so does Alan.

Neck and neck.

(And that also means if you know math, you know how much I weighed in January. Yikes. Forget it immediately or I'll keeeeel you.)

I must kick it back up a notch. I've done great with my food lately but have slacked off on exercise.

Tomorrow morning: Back to the gym.

Mom Card revoked

I'm writing this from the kitchen table. Usually I'd be on the couch, but this corner of the kitchen is really the only place in the house that doesn't make me want to cry right now.

Wow. I am such a baby who probably needs to turn in her Mom Card. But seriously.

The house, which I had shockingly kept in some bit of order lately, is again turned upside down in an amazingly symbolic homage to the health of my family for the past week.

It all started when my husband came down with the worst cough I've ever heard. He missed a few days of work last week and was finally diagnosed with bronchitis over the weekend. A steroid shot and inhaler have helped, but he still sounds bad.

By the end of last week, we got a call from daycare that our 2-year-old had barfed all over his favorite shirt: Popeye. Disaster on many levels. He has had violent diarrhea that continues even today, which comes with … all moms chime in here … violent diaper rash. Lovely.

By Sunday, I was down. I got my child's vomiting and diarrhea, but instead of my husband's chest cold, I got something new to the mix: a head cold. So in addition to running back and forth to the toilet for four days, I've felt like my head and face have been constantly squeezed in a vise.

My husband (whom I can not thank enough for taking care of us all while we've been sick) has returned to work and continued to heal, and my son appeared to be doing well except for the poops … until yesterday.

Yet another trip to MedExpress revealed yet another ear infection. Oh fun.

That calls for another antibiotic, which almost always leads to more violent diarrhea, which leads to … all moms chime in here … more violent diaper rash.

We got our son to sleep at a decent hour last night, only for him to wake up and want to lie on the couch with Daddy. He felt so bad, what do you do? You let him hang out on the couch.

What happened next can only be described as a Power Puke that left little untouched with mostly red juice, soaking our couch cushions, blankets, pillow and the 2-year-old himself. So at midnight, we were throwing the kid into the bathtub, blankets into the washer and we were deep cleaning couch cushions.

Good times.

That pretty much catches you up on why I didn't have a weigh-in report on Monday. My weight-loss pal Alan weighed, and he said he stayed the same — even after walking 10 miles the day before.

I also drug myself onto the scale Monday after one of those bathroom runs, and even after I was Poopy McPukesAlot, I had lost 1 pound.

I don't care. Not this week.

I just want us all to be well. I have such a greater appreciation for anyone who deals with a chronically ill child or family member after this past week. I couldn't handle it. I am weak.

And I am sitting in the corner of my kitchen trying to actually get some work done for a very understanding employer, wishing I was well enough to rejoin society, trying not to think about the condition of the house or the pain in my head, trying not look at the couch cushion that is still drying and trying not to cry.

It's not working so well.

We're shrinking

[caption id="attachment_472355" align="alignright" width="300" caption="I have no idea who this dude is."][/caption]

We now resume your regularly scheduled programming.

Sorry about the lack of updates last week. I didn't hear from Alan since he was dealing with a flat tire last Monday morning. Then every time I got around to posting, I'd get busy with something else.

Alan may have had a flat tire, but what he doesn't have is a spare tire. Since we started this weight loss challenge Jan. 3, he has lost a total of 15 pounds!

Me? Well, if you remember the last time I wrote, I had gained 2 pounds. That was two weeks ago, and I've since lost 9 pounds.

I can hardly believe it, but since Jan. 3, I am now down 22 pounds (and down 46 since last March)!

(I admittedly might still be a bit dehydrated from helping my friend Karen celebrate her 60th birthday Saturday. But I'll take it.)

I'll leave you with this today, posted recently by my friend Tammie: "If you keep focused on the future, you'll always have a clean slate."

It's great for anyone trying to make a positive change.

It's a brand-new week. What will you do with it?

Just what the doctor ordered

I got such a gift last night.

I had just walked into a funeral home visitation when I saw my dear friend Kristy and her boyfriend, Dr. Tony.

"Wow, girl, you look amazing!" Tony told me.

Or maybe it was "fabulous"? I just know it was an adjective I'd neither heard nor felt about myself in a very long time.

I so needed to hear that.

Tony hadn't seen me since last spring, when I first started this weight loss journey. I've had so many ups and downs since then that I honestly forget to stop and appreciate the fact that I've lost a total of nearly 40 pounds.

It's obvious to someone who hasn't seen me every day. And it meant the world that he noticed.

It was just the boost I needed this morning to get my butt out of bed and to the gym in the bitter cold (it's up to a sweltering 4 degrees as I write this).

If you notice something good about someone today, take the time to tell him or her.

It could make all the difference.

Not so super

Stupid Super Bowl.

Sometimes I am an example of what to do. Many times, I'm an example of what not to do.

This week I'm the latter.

Slacking on exercise all week and then overindulging on beer and delicious Super Bowl party foods the night before my weekly weigh-in? Not smart.

Alan, my weight-loss competitor, doesn't even like football, which points to two thoughts:

1) He had an obvious advantage going into this week.
2) I'm not sure how we're even friends.

So he lost 2 more pounds for the week, and I gained 2.

But the beauty of taking charge of your life means that each new day can be a brand-new start. And I chose to start this day with 3 miles on the treadmill.

I'm standing up, dusting off and moving forward.

Have a great week!

Goodbye, January

Weight is weird.

Last week, when I expected to have lost more, I lost 1 stupid pound.

This week, when the enjoyment of some delicious cheesy potatoes and ice cream on my annual scrapbooking retreat had me nervous … I am down 5 more pounds.

Alan sent me a photo of his naked feet (gasp!) on his scales this morning, and it looked to show just under 200.

So, for the month of January, Alan is down 5 to 6 pounds total, and I've lost 15.

Amazing.

When I can get caught up (yeah right), I'll write a little more than just a weigh-in report.

Until then, keep on keeping on ...

3 weeks down

[caption id="attachment_472326" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Alan says he is starting to feel ribs."][/caption]

Happy Monday.

We've wrapped up the third week of our 2011 slim-down.

Alan lost 3 more pounds, and I lost 1.

I was actually kind of surprised by that, but a loss is a loss, so I'll take it.

This week will be a bit more challenging. I am on my own with the 2-year-old for part of the week, as my husband is in Atlanta.

And my left knee is starting to tighten and retain some fluid. I'm hoping it will resolve on its own.

And on Friday, I leave for my annual hardcore scrapbooking retreat, which always involves lots of sitting and noshing. I'll try to use good sense.

Oh, and I've officially been off Diet Coke now for three weeks, too. I drink water, unsweet tea and even the occasional black coffee. (I feel so grown up.)

Alan notes that he is starting to feel his ribs.

Ah, ribs. Mine are in there somewhere. Near my so-called "abs," I suppose.

I shall continue my quest to find them ...